Ruined Façade
by Doublebee
Summary: When Soul is landed in the infirmary due to another cataleptic episode that leaves him hurt, Maka is determined to help Soul get what he needs most. Short, not very sweet oneshot. M for the gorey situation at hand. Reviews make me happy. :3


**Time for more skizo, black-blood-ness Soul! 8D …Admit it, you love it as much as I do.**

** Anyway. Just a quick oneshot. Kinda loose, but meh, I mainly wrote it for kicks while I listened to some emo song my friend would NOT turn off, and one thing led to another... xD So, enjoy!**

** Soul Eater still isn't mine. Ohkubo just will not hand it over. Which is probably for the best, I assume.**

"I'm telling Stein."

Maka said this matter-of-factly as she sat at Soul's bedside in the infirmary, almost like her second-home ever since the Crona incident, poisoning Soul with the biggest issue he'd ever have to face

Black Blood.

He was here, again, after a late-night mind session with the demon had gone wrong. The image still plagued Maka's mind, although it happened at least three days ago…

_Flashback:_

_ "Get out of my head, bastard!"_

_ A loud crash made Maka jump, and she instantly found herself darting to Soul's room, her legs freezing once she shoved his door open, and stared at him in horror._

_ Blood. So much blood._

_ Soul had managed to slam himself against the wall, holding his arms up as blood slowly dripped down his wrists, leaving stains about his wood floor, and his clothing._

_ And his arms weren't the only thing torn up._

_ Blood snaked down his throat from scratches on his cheeks and jawbone, leaving his orange shirt collar splotched with deep crimson spots._

_ No, not scratches._

Claw _marks. From his nails. The same as the ones on his wrists._

_ "Soul!"_

_ He didn't hear her as Maka dropped to her knees at the sight of him. She placed her hands on both his shoulders, shaking him furiously in an attempt to wake him up. But Soul only growled, holding his arms up higher, as if trying to avoid setting them on a table top or such._

_ "Soul! Look at me! Please, say something! Oh _God_!"_

_ No response._

_ Maka leaped up, frantically grabbing a random shirt from his dresser and ripping in clean pieces, tying each to his wrists. The meister pressed the extra fabric to his face, trying to stop the blood that rolled down into his shirt._

_ At this, Soul finally came back from his trance, his breathing picking up as he saw the blood that rained from him. Confused, dazed, and scared, he stared at his meister, asking silently for a recap of sorts. But Maka was already on the phone, screeching into the receiver for help._

_ And Soul soon found the world disappearing, going black as he passed out, due to his blood loss._

_End Flashback_

"No!" He practically screamed at her, snapping Maka's hand in both of hers, with wide eyes. "Maka, you can't tell him, or anyone about this!"

She frowned at him, trying to wriggle her hand from his. But his iron grip proved too much for her, and she gave up, letting him clutch her warm hand between his.

"You need help, Soul. And me just sitting here after you have a break down or a nightmare isn't getting you anywhere, and you know it as well as I do."

Although Maka's words were calm and cool, she actually felt like breaking down into tears herself. But she's rehearsed this in her mind over a million times, and promised she wouldn't cry.

Well, she'd _try_ not to. For Soul's sake.

"Maka, _please_ don't tell. _Please_."

Soul never said 'please'. Ever. It was just not in his nature.

"Soul…" she mumbled, staring into those crimson eyes with a look of pure sadness at his desperation. "I have to."

"Maka, I promise! It'll get better, it will!"

"It'll get _better_? Tell me Soul, is it _better_ now? Is that why you're sitting here in the infirmary with gashes on your wrists and claw marks on your face, because _you _did this of your own free will? Is it getting _better_ with each nightmare that makes you crawl into _my _bed, nonetheless refuse to sleep for a week straight? Are the trances getting _better _due to the fact you nearly _killed_ _yourself_ because of them?"

He stared at her, swallowing slowly in realization at her words. He couldn't deny them, because they were all true, and they both knew she spoke the truth, painful as it may be.

"It's not getting better, Soul. We have to tell Stein you're losing it-"

"But…" Soul looked down at his lap, trying to hide the tears welling up in his eyes.

"I-I'm not insane."

Lord, how he _hated_ that word. Insane. It was enough to make him gag.

Maka sighed, gently brushing some of his hair back in order to see at least part of his face as she spoke to him in a soft, caring tone.

"I know. I know you're not. But you need _help_, Soul. Please, just let me _help_ you now." The meister pleaded, cupping his face gently in her palm.

He sniffed quietly, looking back at her with pained eyes. Her own viridian eyes were filled with sorrow, and he felt his heart cringe at the thought that it was _his_ fault she was like this right now. And it would always be his fault, if he didn't accept her help.

The scythe's hands held Maka's tightly as he nodded slowly, his voice barely a whisper as he finally spoke again.

"Please, help me, Maka."

Maka stared at him, before nodding, tears cascading from her own eyes as she used her free hand to pet through his silver hair calmly.

"I promise, I will."

_I'll _never_ let you get hurt again, Soul. I swear it._

**Yeaaah. Skizo Soul is sexy.**

** Well, sorry if it sucked, but, y'know. I just had to. X3 Thanks for reading it, anyway!**

** Review please? :3**


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